Shapeshifter
by end1essly
Summary: For Harry and Hermione, the term "best friend" was about to gain a different definition.... Oneshot.


Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story. I remain a lowly fanfic author.

**Author's Note:** I ignore Deathly Hallows, deal with it. Thanks so much to my GE beta, Miss Valady. Written for Grangerenchanted's "Hermione FQF fest". Oneshot.

Shapeshifter

The skyline was the epitome of perfection, the periwinkle, amber and rose heralding the setting of yet another restless sun. All this he saw from hundreds of feet in the air, so that the dwindling rays still lit up the endless sea of evergreens, as if they too were silent magical beings, brimming with inner power. The wind lovingly tousled his raven locks as he breathed in a deep mouthful of crisp oxygen, hands gently clasped around the polished handle of his broom. The castle off in the distance was full of adolescents enjoying yet another magical dinner, blissfully unaware of the change in their beloved Chosen One. The persistent grumbling of his own stomach fell on deaf ears as Harry sat deep in thought, his mind clearer than it had been in months, the pain, the misery, and the deception he'd been wrestling with as existent as Nargles.

_So this,_ he thought while the world lay at his feet, _is what it's like to be infinite.

* * *

_

It seemed that with the slow death of autumn's showy leaves signaling the change of season to the unfeeling cloak of winter, Hogwarts too was undergoing an interesting, albeit understandable transformation. Not that the beginning of the school term was ever ordinary, but this one threatened to top all others. In light of the unfortunate demise of their beloved Headmaster, successor Minerva McGonagall adapted an ambitious philosophy:_ House unity, to bind together whatever good we have left. _The outward effects of these words were shallow: All students wore the same black uniform, devoid of the bright emerald, scarlet, gold and sapphire hues that formerly had distinguished the Houses, and the esteemed Head Position had been expanded to include four students, one from each of the respective Houses. The inward gossip and controversy sparked by these events, however, heightened both the rivalries and camarederies between the Houses. The Slytherins, although severely depleted in number, became even more hostile, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff chose a friendlier approach.

Hermione was somewhat appalled at sharing the Head Position with so many people—Harry could remember her pacing in the Gryffindor Common Room after McGonagall's welcoming speech. She got along well enough with Padma Patil, but sharing a common with both Ernie Macmillan and Theodore Nott had her ill tempered and spiteful at dinnertimes. Ernie remained his charming pompous self, and Nott spoke in such hushed, cryptic phrases that nearly no one knew anything about him. His family, along with Narcissa Malfoy, surrendered themselves immediately to the Order after Dumbledore's death. Perhaps this was why Theo and Draco had taken to one another, the two lean and aristocratic young men striking an imposing figure when they strolled together in the corridors. Draco Malfoy himself was a quandary: He had reappeared in late July, a whisker from death, with a plethora of secrets for the Ministry. Harry had certainly heard none of such secrets from Order members that summer at Grimmauld Place, but it seemed slightly uncanny that both Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy had been captured soon after Draco's admission to the Light.

The first week of the term, the school's gossips were in a tizzy when Draco unceremoniously settled himself next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table and issued soft and solemn apologies. It was simply bizarre to later see Hermione and Draco working on homework together in pleasant silence: Indeed, Harry hadn't heard the blond echo the word "Mudblood" since that fateful day of reckoning.

As for his own life, Harry's world was full of confusion and mediocrity: His failure at keeping his headmaster and mentor alive had thoroughly derailed him, causing the aura at Grimmauld Place to be tangibly somber. His "breakup" with Ginny had been downright confusing, Ginny coping in the hazy, extravagant world of a female adolescent, Harry turning to brooding and many games of Wizard's Chess with Ron. The two held hands and lightly snogged sometimes, but Harry felt that the thrilling layer of excitement had been discarded in favor of fear for Voldemort. Indeed, Harry's ardent desire to abandon Hogwarts in pursuit of Horcruxes had been succinctly halted by his "older, and therefore more knowledgeable" friends. Kingsley, Moody and Lupin had expressly forbid him to discontinue his education; Lupin had even gone to such lengths as being reinstated DADA professor so he could keep an eye on Harry. The unlimited use of the library and free weekends granted by McGonagall were certainly not enough to quench his insatiable thirst to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

It seemed that his friends were moving on forward, without him. Ron, although continually supportive and uniquely entertaining, had wound himself up in the comfortable arms of Parvati Patil, his "first serious relationship". Hermione had been silently distraught for weeks over this development, but she too had a romantic prospect: Harry had caught Hermione and Theo Nott exchanging meaningful looks, more than once, while studying in the quiet realm ruled by Madame Pince.

This last thought left Harry feeling deeply unsettled as he turned his broomstick downwards towards the castle, although he simply couldn't speculate as to why.

* * *

It never ceased to amaze Harry how the Fates twisted and turned reality, the way clearly-established histories quickly became obsolete. It only took one afternoon in the most innocuous of places to produce such a startling revelation that Harry knew his life at Hogwarts was about to take a drastic turn.

The morning started off, as always, brilliantly.

"You're being a downright git, Harry, and I don't think I can take it anymore!" Ginny screeched as Harry willed himself to become one with his cornflakes. The Slytherin table across from them looked amused at the latest Poteasly fight, Pansy Parkinson covering an indelicate snigger with her hand.

"Listen, Ginny, I've been horribly busy, and I'm just trying to work things out—"

"Of course you're busy! We're all busy! Don't you think that everyone is as worried about You-Know-Who? All I'm asking is for a little of your time, Harry!"

"I'm giving you as much time as I can!" Harry replied discreetly, trying to prevent yet another dramatic display from breaking out in the Great Hall. A few seats away, Ron rolled his eyes then turned back to Parvati, who was busily feeding him scrambled eggs. Hermione smiled sympathetically, then turned back to her animated conversation with Neville.

"Well, maybe it's not enough," Ginny replied, low and dangerous, "to the point that I don't think I want to waste what precious time I have on you. Goodbye, Harry."

She swept out of the spacious room, shoes clacking on the stone floor as her auburn hair flicked angrily. Harry sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. Things were getting worse and worse, and the cycle of splitting up and getting back together didn't make him feel any less despondent about the situation. He felt a warm hand on his arm, only to see Hermione at his side, big brown eyes discernable with emotion.

"Oh Harry…" she began softly, making small circles on his bicep, "I'm really sorry…"

Harry felt incredibly guilty in that moment, enjoying the feel of her fingers dancing across his jumper entirely too much. However, could he really be blamed? It was strange to think, how only this year had Harry started to think of Hermione as a _girl._ She'd always been so firm, reliable, dependable, but seeing her come undone because of oblivious Ron had been an awakening. She certainly was beautiful, in a refreshing unconventional manner that fascinated him. Not to mention their physical intimacy had deepened, as Harry had comforted Hermione time and time again with meaningful embraces.

Could he be falling for his best friend? The thought made his skull tinge with pain.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry replied, finally raising his head to its original position, "I just give up with her. Honestly. But would you like to go to the library with me? I think tackling Flitwick's Entrapment Charm essay will keep my mind off of things."

Hermione nodded and picked up her heavy bookbag, showing that she had the intention of spending the entirety of the weekend in the library as well.

_Such a bookworm,_ Harry thought with a smile as he followed the petite witch out of the Great Hall, _a rather appealing bookworm, however…

* * *

_

Harry had read the first paragraph on the page seven times without processing it, due to the fact that Hermione was nonchalantly drawing phantom circles on his thigh. It was quite embarrassing, actually, how Harry was struck silent while Hannah Abbott and later Draco Malfoy came over to their table to visit. Hermione was seemingly unaffected, chattering in her usual personable manner as her delicate fingers caused very indecent thoughts to form in Harry's dazed brain.

"…Oh Draco, you are bizarre! Do you think Sprout has even heard of that theory before?"

The platinum-blond boy chuckled, a deep sound that came from somewhere in his throat. "Oh, who knows? As long as it adds a couple more inches, I'll be pleased!" He turned his silver gaze to Harry, who was staring stupidly out into space.

"Oi, Potter, you doing okay? You look a bit barmy!"

Harry shook his head several times and tried to ignore the tantalizing feeling he was getting under the table. While he and Malfoy were nowhere close to best mates, the two maintained a pleasant state of acquaintance, mostly due to their mutual friend in Hermione. Speaking of Hermione…the brunette was staring at him concernedly, her fingers making even faster circles, eyes open wide.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry? Shall we see Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry sat up straight in his chair and pushed Hermione's fingers away, plastering a pleasant smile on his visage.

"Oh no, I'm fine. My mind is just somewhat occupied…"

Draco nodded understandably, stretching out his long legs and folding his arms behind his head, "Ah yes, women will drive you mad. You're better off dropping the bint! Sorry, Hermione."

The female in question shot the blond a smirk, turning her attention once again to Harry, her eyes dropping to the textbook open in front of him.

"Oh Harry, you're not done with that chapter yet? I had rather hoped to write notes on it tonight…"

Her tone of voice seemed to drop an octave; her eyelashes fluttering slightly, a small sweet smile on her face. Harry's face flushed slightly at the action, shutting the book and pushing it in her direction.

"You can have it, I'll try something else…" Harry stuttered, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Malfoy was packing up his things.

"I'll let you guys get back to _studying,_" Malfoy said in his usual sassy drawl, hoisting his bag onto his broad shoulder, "See you guys in Potions tomorrow!"

Harry could have sworn the blond had shot him a wink as he'd left, his white shirttail fluttering behind him, but it could have possibly been in his imagination. It was rather likely that Hermione had an infatuation for Malfoy, whose charming bad boy persona and pristine Nordic looks had girls fawning all over Hogwarts. The two _had_ been spending a large amount of time together, it was quite possible…

Never mind.

Her delicate hand had moved to his back, the pads of her fingers causing the hairs surrounding his spine to stand up deliciously. The prospect of viewing Hermione under an erotic lens was terrifyingly exciting, but also quite disturbing. He tried in vain to scribble something across his blank parchment, anything to keep his pants from getting tight in a particular region, cloud out the nasty thoughts that were racing across his mind about Hermione, Hermione Granger, his best friend!

"Hermione…" his voice came out in a throaty growl that surprised the two of them. "I think I'm going to take a break, can't possibly focus…"

The witch who had ensnared him rose when he did, watching Harry stuff his parchment and quill into his bag with a look of incredulity on her face. "Harry, why do you have to leave?" she asked hurriedly, a hint of a whine in her tone. Harry tore his eyes off the floor to meet her gaze and was taken aback. Her expression matched the fingers that were currently attached to his arm: She desperately did not want him to leave her alone in the library. But the reason why was unfortunately unknown…

"I have to leave, Hermione," Harry replied earnestly, gently pulling her arm from her grasp.

"But _why_?" Hermione retorted, "We were having a lovely time, I do miss spending time with you, Harry. I feel like you're the only one who _understands._"

With this final comment, she broke him, her hazelnut-colored eyes brimming with something close to tears, fingers tentatively brushing his waist.

It was then Harry caught fire.

Harry swept her up and into his arms, pressing his lips softly to her surprised ones, wasting no time in applying further pressure. He was snogging her, desperate, passionate and terrified, and yet the brunette female did not respond for nearly a minute. When she finally did, her skillful fingers entwining into his hair, pulling his face heatedly to hers, pushing him backwards until he nearly felled a bookcase, Harry felt his libido flare like Fiendfyre. He bit gently on her bottom lip, she rewarding him with entrance into her small delicate mouth.

O, was she Heaven…

Harry was so swept away with the addictive taste of her tongue that his mind nearly didn't register that Hermione was busy at work unbuttoning his shirt like some wild sexy librarian. He hesitated a moment, which brought Hermione back into her Head Girl mode at the speed of light, their lips separating instantly.

"Oh Merlin…" she panted, as Harry stared at her in awe, glasses dangling from one ear and hair a chaotic mess, "I…I…You're with Ginny, I didn't mean…"

"Bloody Hell, Hermione!" Harry responded, quickly rebuttoning his Oxford lest Madame Pince stop by to see what was causing all the hullabaloo, "That is besides the point! It was all that…touching! You were driving me mad!"

"Oh Harry, I didn't know what to do!" the Head Girl responded despondently, "I've…always had a bit of a thing for you, but you were madly besotted with Ginny, and after Ron rejected me you were so nice and caring…I just couldn't help it!"

Harry just stared at her, mouth operating in slow motion with a fishy demeanor. "I…I…I have to think about this, Hermione. I need some time alone." He swept past her and out of the library, leaving a bewildered group of Hufflepuff second years and one very upset Head Girl.

_Bloody Hell indeed!

* * *

_

Walking down the corridors seemed to be an innocent enough activity: Harry led the way towards the greenhouses, an overly eager Ginny close by his side ever since the two had reconciled at breakfast, and Ron trailing somewhat behind, giving cheeky smiles to the various groups of whispering girls spread about the castle. Harry's cheerful mood was soon spoiled by the abhorrent scene played out before his eyes: Hermione was leaned against the stone wall—Merlin, was she _giggling_?— while Theo Nott whispered in her ear and wound one chestnut curl playfully around his finger. Draco Malfoy stood close to the couple; arms crossed and smirk in place, seemingly pleased that his best friend was seducing the Gryffindor Princess.

All thoughts flew completely out of Harry's mind: the fact that Herbology started in ten minutes, the transfixed gaze of the crowd, his hopelessly love struck girlfriend; save for the fact that he needed to get Hermione away from that suspicious Slytherin whose charm was working entirely too well. He'd thought long and hard about their snog the night before, only to be as confused as ever. He'd decided to play it by ear, but was still surprised by the furious feelings he received just by seeing Hermione speak to a young man that wasn't named Harry Potter.

Striding purposefully, Harry yanked Hermione's arm none-too-politely and headed off in the opposite direction, Hermione's protests echoing off the walls. Ginny and Ron shrugged to one another; the sight of Harry and Hermione walking off alone was commonplace enough. Poor Theo stood frozen, positively gaping. Ever the reliable best mate, Draco ushered Nott towards the greenhouses with a knowing chuckle, shooting a glare at anyone who dare question.

"Harry, how _dare_ you! Embarrassing me in front of all those people!—" The raging brunette was stunned silent when she was pushed rudely inside an empty classroom, nearly knocking her head against the stone wall.

"How _dare I_?!?!?" Harry roared, shutting the door and securing it properly with Obfirmeo and Silencio spells, "I'm not the one acting like a hussy around Theodore Nott, who most likely has a venereal disease!"

"You're one to talk!" Hermione shot back, eyes scrunched together in fury, "Getting back together with Ginny even though it's clear you don't even like her! Desperate are we, Potter?"

"How would you who I'm into?" Harry sneered, his face dangerously close to the petite witch's, who was facing him with an equally venomous glare.

Their eyes suddenly connected, the fervent fire within them suddenly transfiguring to passionate ardor. It was no surprise when Hermione launched herself at the taller young man, wrapping her legs deftly around his middle. Their kisses would be most accurately described as painful, each one trying to be the dominant, tongues and teeth gnashing together. Hermione ripped off Harry's sweater and Oxford in one quick motion, while Harry relieved her of her bra and skirt nearly simultaneously. Then he was pressing her against the wall, their kisses growing slow and languid despite the frantic stroking of each other's bodies.

When Hermione's delicate hands settled around the fine hair above his belt, Harry broke away, looking intensely into her eyes as the two panted from their exertion.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry breathed, never feeling more nervous than in this exact moment.

Hermione's expression matched his own, and when she opened her mouth to reply she was noticeably trembling. "I don't know what we are, Harry, but I know that if we don't, we'll end up regretting it."

Harry answered her with a scorching kiss that left her shaking, only to say what would be his final sentence in their moment of passion: "Do we have protection?"

Hermione nodded curtly, finding her wand amongst their discarded clothing and whispering a short spell.

Then they were meshing and melding into the most delicious act: the simultaneous loss of their virginities. There were moments that Harry would keep tucked away for years to come, when he was happily married and the father of three children: The way kissing her collarbone resulted in the most erotically sweet moans from Hermione, the rough feel of her fingernails scraping across his shoulder blades, her wild hair sweeping to and fro, the way it had felt to enter her most sacred center, her satisfied squeals, the way her perky breasts stood proudly out from her boyish frame.

When he slipped in a few digits to hasten the process, it wasn't long before he could feel her shuddering, the utterance of his name in her sexy purr enough to make him fly over the edge. The two of them screamed together as they came, it seeming that their bodies couldn't come close enough, slippery from sweat…and well, other things too.

They lay panting afterwards, Harry's strong arms wrapped around Hermione's naked frame that was shaking from their wild lovemaking.

_Harry has never looked more handsome,_ Hermione thought as she became lost in those pools of emerald.

_How could I ever have viewed her as anything but the exquisite creature she is? _Harry thought as he admired the passionate vixen lying next to him, hair mussed and cheeks a delicate pink.

"Harry," Hermione croaked, her breathing slowly returning to its normal pace, "That was fantastic…"

The raven-haired boy nodded and pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, drawing her closer into his embrace.

"I've decided something, Hermione," Harry spoke confidently, his nakedness feeling as natural as the act they had just performed, "I don't know what's to come…Whether Voldemort will be the end of me, if the whole world is about to end…But I know I want you by my side, no matter the opinion of others."

His heart swelled, and he felt that for the first time since Sirius had died, some of the weight that came with being the Chosen One had been lifted from his burden.

"Oh Harry…" Hermione cooed, kissing him back sweetly, "I may be unsure about this, but I will never leave you."

There was a sudden loud knocking on the door, which caused the couple to spring apart, desperately scrambling for their scattered robes and underclothing. With a quiet swish, the door opened and a platinum blond head poked in, just as Harry had zipped up his trousers and Hermione had hidden herself with her cloak.

"Oi, Granger!" Draco said cheerfully, seemingly not surprised at couple's compromising situation, "You owe me twenty Galleons for that little episode I set up back there!"

Harry looked at Hermione in shock, her only response a cheeky wink.


End file.
